


silk and satin, leather and lace

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Is A Kinkywolf, First Time, Lingerie!Kink, M/M, Please Don't Take This Seriously, Stiles Asks Personal Questions, Very Slight 3A spoilers, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles sighs, exasperated. “Do you need me to wear a thong and a wig, and put on some makeup? Just throw me a bone here, excuse the canine expression, and tell me what I can do because seriously Derek, I’m getting so sick of being a virgin and I also just desperately want to have sex with you in the dirtest of wa- wait, why are you blushing?”</p><p>(Or the one where Derek needs help getting comfortable with the idea of homosexual intercourse, and Stiles just wants to help him get there.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	silk and satin, leather and lace

**Author's Note:**

> For my lovely th'y'la Hannah, who has a lingerie kink. Also, like it says in the tags, don't even bother taking this seriously. I had way too much fun writing this.

It all starts when Derek pulls away, Stiles’ swollen red lips slick and still parted, tongue dangling out of his mouth.

“You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes in concern. Derek swallows, nodding and averting his gaze.

Stiles scooches back over to his counterpart, swinging his legs off the mattress with a bounce. He looks into Derek’s eyes, softening his expression. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Derek opens his mouth to speak, but isn’t sure where to begin. “I…” He sighs, clenching his fists. “I’m just sort of in two different places right now, yknow?” He quickly fumbles for the right words to halt the wounded look sweeping into Stiles’ features.

“I just mean that...well, I’ve come to terms with the emotional part of this. And even the...sexual desire. But the actual sex itself? I’m not sure I’m quite there yet.” He finishes with a sizable inhale, turning his head away from the boy.

“Derek, it’s okay,” Stiles says gently. “Haven’t you done it with a guy before?”

“No,” Derek snaps, “have you?”

Stiles chuckles. “I haven’t done it with anyone, remember?”

“And you want me to be your first?”

Stiles smiles, running his finger down the length of Derek’s bulging arm. “We’ve been over this. Yes, I do.”

Derek sighs again, biting his lip. He and Stiles, after haphazardly falling into a relationship (as much as he hated to call it that, there really was no other word), had done...stuff. Things. A lot, actually. But between the constant interruptions (their group of friends clearly didn’t have the word “privacy” included in their collective vocabulary) and the fact that Stiles apparently aims to please, Derek had always been on the receiving end. And not that he didn’t want Stiles that way, but sometimes it was easier for him to close his eyes and forget that the person going down on him had his own bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I don’t want you to think it’s your fault, or that I’m not attracted to you.”

“Hey,” Stiles says with another soft smile, “don’t worry about it. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? And I’ll be here the whole time to guide you through it.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line? Considering you’re the virgin,” Derek smirks, and half-heartedly dodges the pillow Stiles tosses at his head.

The younger boy bounces again, and Derek holds back a groan, already sensing the gears turning in Stiles’ brain.

“Okay, so what can we do to make this work?”

Derek hides an eye roll.

“Have you ever, um, gone in through the, uh, back door, yknow, with a girl?”

“Stiles!”

“It’s a valid question! Have you?”

“No,” Derek says, willing the blood to stop rushing to his cheeks.

“The only reason I asked is because, well, it’s like the same thing here, right?”

“How is it the same thing?”

“Well, you’ll be, I’m assuming, the one to do the, uh...penetrating, right?”

Derek sucks in a breath. “Stiles, don’t ever use the word “penetrating” again.”

“Noted. But you’ll be, um, pitching, and I'll be, like, catching.”

“I guess, yeah.”

“So it’s sort of the same thing.”

“If it’ll make you stop talking about this, sure,” he mumbles.

“What can I do that would help you?”

The werewolf shrugs, still refusing eye contact. “I don’t _know_ , Stiles.”

Stiles sighs, exasperated. “Do you need me to wear a thong and a wig, and put on some makeup? Just throw me a bone here, excuse the canine expression, and tell me what I can do because seriously Derek, I’m getting so sick of being a virgin and I also just desperately want to have sex with you in the dirtest of wa- wait, why are you blushing?”

Shit.

“M’not.”

“Derek, why are you blushing?”

“It’s nothing.”

Stiles grins, shifting so he’s looking right in Derek’s face. “Dude, I’m not even a werewolf and I can practically smell that you’re lying.”

“Fine,” Derek grumbles, “that thing you said before.”

“Which thing? I say a lot of things. You of all people should know that I say a lot of things.”

“The _thing_ ,” Derek says again, clenching his teeth.

“The makeup?” Stiles smiles, pleased with himself.

Derek’s look wipes the grin off his face.

“Was it the wig, then? I can do that, if you need me to.”

“No, Stiles, it wasn’t the wig.”

“Then what wa- oh. _Oh_. Derek! You kinky wolf!” Stiles yells the last part, victoriously jumping up from where he was kneeling on the floor in front of Derek.

“Shut up.”

“You want me in lingerie? Wow. Just wow. I’d pegged you as rough sex, but never _kinky_ sex. Wow. I’m astonishingly turned on right now.”

“I’m leaving,” Derek mumbles, and he pushes his way past an arm-flailing, gyrating Stiles.

“No, Derek, wait! I’m sorry! At least tell me what kind of ling-”

He slams the door behind him, making his way to his Camaro. He quickly adjusts the newly-aroused bulge in his jeans and gets in the car, forcing himself not to look up at Stiles, who, of course, is watching him leave through his window.

He’s not surprised when he receives a text seconds after he gets back to the loft.

**Sorry if I made you uncomfortable :/ Do you still love me?**

He rolls his eyes, trying to hide a smile even though he’s alone.

_We’ll see. (It’s okay, though. Don’t worry about it.)_

**By the way, what’s your favorite color?**

_Blue...why?_

**Just wondering! Later, kinkywolf ;)**

Derek slams his phone down, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Surprisingly, the lingerie incident isn’t brought up for weeks. Between trying to figure out where Jennifer went (“A missing body does not a convincing death make,” Stiles laments), trying to figure out where Peter went (“I don’t understand why we need to waste time on that douche canoe--he’ll show up at an inconvenient time sooner or later anyway.”), and trying to figure out what to do about the remaining alpha pack, as well as deal with the politics of his own pack, there just isn’t much time for hooking up.

So when Derek arrives at Stiles’ house for some much-needed physical contact, he’s smiling, a slight spring in his step as he makes his way up the stairs.

“Hey,” Stiles grins, lying comfortably on his bed, “c’mere.”

Derek obliges, sliding off his leather jacket and neatly hanging it on the back of Stiles’ computer chair. Then he climbs onto the bed, enveloping the younger boy in his arms, taking a moment to breath in his scent.

Stiles kisses him eagerly, blunt human teeth clicking against Derek’s slightly sharper ones, even when he’s not transformed. Reveling in Stiles’ soft chuckle of arousal, he pulls the boy’s shirt over his head, then removes his own, pressing himself against Stiles’ warm, flushed chest. He sucks at Stiles’ collarbone as Stiles works the buckle on his jeans, pushing them off. Derek takes a deep breath, pulls away from Stiles’ neck.

“Everything okay?”

Derek nods, smirking, and he reaches this time for Stiles’ fly, slowly pulling down the zipper and relishing Stiles’ lustful shock, eyes already wide and half-blissed out, cheeks hollowing. He pulls Stiles jeans off in a quick motion, and as he slowly brings his head up to the boy’s pelvis, he stops cold.

“I-I can explain,” Stiles stammers, his whole body turning scarlet.

Derek stares at the boy, who’s now wearing nothing but a baby-blue lace thong that barely pretends to cover his erection.

“You didn’t.”

“Derek,” Stiles says slowly, “I was just trying to help, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Derek laughs, eyebrows raised, “don’t be sorry.”

“Wha-”  
Stiles’ question cuts off mid-breath as Derek greedily bends back down.

So maybe he’s turned on by hyperactive teenage boys wearing lingerie.

And maybe he runs his tongue along the string of lace between Stiles’ asscheeks, not stopping until it’s sopping wet.

And maybe he tears it off easily with his teeth. (“I literally spent $40 on those, and I didn’t even get a half hour’s use out of them, you horny fuck.”)

And maybe he lets out a jagged breath as he slowly pushes into Stiles, minutes later, after he’s positive they’re both ready, and Stiles is gripping his sheets between white-knuckled fingers and letting out the soft moans of approval that he made Derek swear to never tell anyone about the first time they hooked up.

And maybe he isn’t able to hide his smile next time Stiles calls him Kinkywolf, but they’ve come to an agreement that the lingerie is only going to be a once-in-a-while thing. And that’s totally fine with him.


End file.
